


Fair Play

by alpheratz



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Cock & Ball Torture, D/s, Established Relationship, M/M, Pillow Talk, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpheratz/pseuds/alpheratz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe's really into this thing they're trying. That means they should try it again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair Play

**Author's Note:**

> There is some consensual verbal humiliation in this fic. Not a lot, but tread carefully if that's not your thing.
> 
> Huge thanks to inlovewithnight for betaing. <3

Pete is in front of Gabe, holding his elbows behind him in opposite hands. Gabe's fucking tall in front of him, and Pete can't see his face too well, so he keeps his eyes lowered, trained on his soft red dick and on Gabe's hand moving on it.

"You're not a shower at all, baby."

Gabe's voice is quiet, firm, not even mocking. It just sounds like he's stating a fact. And yeah. Gabe's fingers look long against Pete's dick. They're all Pete can see. Pete whimpers and closes his eyes.

"Something you wanna say?" Pete's cock jerks and Gabe smacks it. It's a hot sharp blast of heat. "You're not allowed to get hard."

Pete bites his lip and raises his head, blinking up at the ceiling. Pete had thought it'd hurt less when he got used to it, but Gabe's been teasing him for ages now and every slap echoes deeper and deeper in Pete's body. His knees are going to give out.

"Really, man," says Gabe and slaps it again. Pete whines, the sound breaking off into a sob. "All you gotta do is not get hard. You get hard, I hit you. Why does it take over an hour to teach you that lesson?"

Pete evens out his breathing with a silent effort.

"That was a question, yo."

"I'm sorry," says Pete promptly, like Gabe expects him to. "I'll try harder."

Gabe brushes Pete's dick with the back of his hand and smacks it again. "Bad. Open your eyes and look at me."

"Sorry," Pete chokes out, opening his eyes and blinking around hazily, trying to make out Gabe's face.

"How sorry?" Gabe sits and leans back on the couch, sprawling, and gives Pete a once-over.

"Very sorry, Gabe."

"You don't look sorry," says Gabe, looking down at Pete's crotch with a raised eyebrow. Pete looks down too. He's got a fucking semi again. He just can't control himself, not with Gabe. "I should put you in a cock cage."

It's just dirty talk; Pete knows this somewhere at the back of his mind, but he nods his head so hard that his dick swings with a wet slapping noise against his thigh.

"Seriously?" Gabe says under his breath. It pings around in Pete's head as faintly wrong, but then Gabe's voice goes low and rough and Pete's stomach drops. "You want it so much, you gotta earn it."

Pete takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, thrusting out his hips with a contained shudder.

"Uh-huh," Gabe says and grips Pete by the hips, pulling him forward until Pete loses his balance. 

It hurts, all his fingers digging into Pete's body. Pete feels every single one tear into his capillaries, blood seeping out and spreading under his skin in hot little rivulets, and he whimpers something that could be half-words, pleas to stop or continue or make it even better.

"I'm not doing it hard enough if you're that enthusiastic, you little slut."

"No," says Pete breathily, shaking his head. "Please. Please." 

Gabe slaps Pete's face, rakes his nails down Pete's dick and then slaps it too, until Pete's knees buckle and his head is full of _please_ and thank you and release.

Pete doesn't think he comes, because that's not what it's about, but he vaguely hears Gabe murmuring quietly and feels something soft under his eyes, and when the haziness in his mind clears away, he's in bed with Gabe, between clean-feeling sheets and pressed up to Gabe's naked chest and clothed legs, and he feels better than after any sex he's ever had. 

Gabe touches Pete's face and Pete turns into it like a cat, feeling his mouth stretch into a smile. 

"Good?" There's a smile in Gabe's voice too. 

Pete nods and rubs his face gently against Gabe's hand, feeling the smooth tips of Gabe's nails catch on his lips. "Really good," he says, and coughs. "Shit. Water?"

"Right here." Gabe shifts and takes his hand away, and Pete's cheek feels cold for a moment, but then there's a warm hand on his back and Gabe helping him sit up, then gentle fingers on his face again and the coolness of a glass against his mouth. 

Pete drinks and lies back down, finally opening his eyes and looking up at Gabe. Gabe's eyes are smiling, just like his voice, and there's barely anything guarded there. Pete likes that. It means Gabe's getting used to this, and _that_ probably means that Pete can get him to stick around. 

"So," Pete says. This used to be his least favorite part, but now he kind of likes it. It makes Gabe squirm, for a change. "Debrief."

Gabe sticks his thumbs in the elastic of his sleep pants, pulling them down half an inch, and leers at Pete, just like Pete knew he would.

Pete grins and brushes his thumb down the trail of hair leading down from Gabe's navel. "Either both kinds of debrief or just other one." 

"Did you like it?" 

"Yeah, man." Pete lets his eyes fall shut, remembering Gabe's calm voice, the way Gabe's fingers lay on his dick, the obscene slap of Gabe's hand, the way his dick shrank and most of all the pain, the burning in his cock and balls and thighs and the heat in his cheeks. "It was amazing. Perfect delivery."

"Cool." 

Pete opens his eyes and raises his eyebrow. "And you?" 

Gabe leans down and kisses him. Pete kisses back for a moment, letting in the soft warmth of Gabe's lips, then pulls back. "Gabe."

"It was really good, okay? Amazing, perfect delivery."

Pete kicks him in the shin. " _Gabe_."

"You looked like it felt so awesome." 

"It did." Pete blinks several times to clear his head and looks into Gabe's eyes. Gabe looks... "Gabe."

"Pete. Stop saying Gabe."  
   
"Stop being a dick."

Gabe shakes his head and puts his hand over his eyes. "I said. You looked like it felt amazing."

Pete takes Gabe by the wrist, drags his hand away, and settles above him, wincing at the ache in his legs. "It felt amazing. Gabe, you made me feel amazing." 

Gabe smiles up at him, toothy and pleased. "Good." 

Pete can't help smiling back. "You're still not telling me everything. Come on. Honesty, open communication, all that bullshit, we _agreed_."

Gabe looks right into Pete's eyes and Pete suddenly gets it, his stomach dropping and his dick jerking painfully. "You want to try it," he says. 

"Is that cool?" Gabe sounds uncertain, which always knocks Pete off-balance and makes his guts tangle in a tight knot of protectiveness. 

Pete leans down and touches his forehead to Gabe's, breathing in the scent of Gabe's mouthwash and sweat. "It's cool. Is it cool if I try it now?"

Pete watches Gabe's face closely. Gabe bites his lip when Pete skims his hand down Gabe's chest, right down the middle, spreading his fingers wide to touch as much warm skin as he can. 

"Yeah," Gabe says. "Yeah." 

Pete isn't sure how Gabe does it to him, but Pete's done it to himself a few times, and he figures it's got to be easier to hit another dude's dick. Not like Pete's got much of a self-preservation instinct to begin with, but he has even more experience inflicting bodily pain on others. "Cockslapping a go, brother," Pete says against Gabe's bitten lip, and goes down. 

"That's not slapping," Gabe gasps when Pete rubs his face on the soft worn flannel of his pajamas. Gabe's cock gets hard under his cheek. Pete likes that reminder that Gabe doesn't get hard much when he hurts Pete. It means Gabe's doing it for Pete, and Pete's in tune enough with his ego to admit he loves the attention. 

Pete mouths at Gabe's cock through the fabric, languid and slow, trying to gather some purpose from his still-humming mind and body, and when he feels like he's ready, he bites down gently. 

Gabe makes a harsh sound, more surprised than hurt. Pete lets himself feel the hot knot growing in the bottom of his stomach and keeps his teeth closed over Gabe's dick. It's barely any pressure through the fabric, no sharp sting at all, but Gabe gets restless under him, his hips twitching and shaking so lightly that Pete can only tell because he's so close, because his hands are covering Gabe's hipbones. It makes him hot and terrified, feeling Gabe vulnerable the way Gabe never lets anyone see. 

"Stop fucking around," Gabe says, voice controlled, when Pete spends a little too long breathing on the head of Gabe's cock through the damp flannel. Pete darts his tongue out to taste and it's bitter on his tongue. He just wants to go down on Gabe, mindlessly and forever.

"Pete!" 

"Sorry, sorry." Pete eases Gabe's pants down and drops his hand down to his balls. "'Kay," he says and pinches. 

" _Fuck_ ," Gabe bites out, voice stuttering on the _f_. "Wow, okay."

"Too much?" Pete asks, anxious, watching Gabe's dick go to half-hard.

"No way, do it again."

Pete pinches at the base of Gabe's dick this time, letting his nails scrape and catch at the skin, and watches Gabe screw up his face and press a hand over his eyes to deal with the pain. It hurts Pete too, mirrors and echoes inside Pete's body. "Gabey."

"It doesn't hurt enough, come on. Turnabout is fair play."

"You're like, soft." Pete strokes down Gabe's cock with a finger, covers it with his palm. "Can I get you hard again first?"

Gabe pulls his hand away from his eyes and looks at Pete. "Be my guest," he says, waving at his dick. "All yours."

Pete shoots him a smile and ducks down, sucking long and wet until Gabe's hard in his mouth, so big Pete's gasping every time he pulls off to breathe. 

Gabe makes appreciative noises somewhere above and pets Pete's cheek, rubbing his thumb along Pete's lips. "Enough now, c'mon." 

"Right, okay." Pete scrambles up to his knees, settling over Gabe's thighs. "You want it, like, hard?" 

"Super hard, baby," Gabe laughs. "Give it to me."

Pete glares at him. "You're not going to be laughing when I hit you in the dick."

"You've been avoiding hitting me in the dick for like twenty minutes. I'm not that scared."

Pete frowns. "I'll do it."

Gabe sits up, his pants slipping awkwardly lower around his thighs, and puts his hand on Pete's waist, cool and grounding. "We can just cuddle. I'm supposed to be whispering sweet nothings in your ear right now, I'm pretty sure."

Pete leans forward and kisses Gabe's mouth. Gabe's cock brushes his stomach, and Pete feels funny, lightheaded and hot and like he wants to spill his guts all over a blank Post page. "Sweet nothings can wait," he says firmly against Gabe's mouth, and takes a swing.

His hand's awkward between them and he can't hit that hard, but Gabe rocks forward anyway with a loud shout, Pete barely jerking his head back in time to avoid a collision with Gabe's forehead.

"Careful," he whispers, biting his lip and letting the ache from Gabe's hand clenched on his waist rocket through him. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Gabe half-laughs, half-coughs, and falls back on the mattress. "Keep going."

Pete shakes the tingles out of his hand, closes his eyes, and smacks Gabe somewhere in the vicinity of his cock and balls with a loud slap. Gabe doesn't cry out this time, just groans deep in his throat and digs his fingers tighter into Pete's flesh. It's going to bruise, and Pete will think about this when it does.

"Is that enough?" Pete asks. 

Gabe draws in a few shaky breaths. Pete blinks down at Gabe's cock. It's soft, red, like a flashback to earlier, when Pete was quiet and polite and Gabe was in control above him, smiling like an asshole. "Just do it again."

Pete nods and swings his hand again and twice more for good measure, and stops when Gabe's chest starts heaving alarmingly. "Dude, are you okay?"

Gabe flaps his hand at him and presses his other hand to his eyes. Pete's side aches.

"Dude," Pete says and climbs over him, careful not to put any weight on Gabe's dick. "Dude." Pete carefully pries Gabe's hand off and examines his face. It's shiny-wet. "Oh my god."

"Shut up," Gabe says hoarsely. "I just need a second."

Pete settles on top of Gabe gently, twining their legs together and trying to drag Gabe's pants off with his feet. All of his insides feel like they're melting. He kisses under Gabe's left eye and then darts his tongue out to lick. 

"Bad dog," Gabe mumbles into Pete's chin. "Stop licking me."

Pete licks up the rest of the tears under Gabe's left eye and moves over to the right eye while Gabe ineffectually pushes at his shoulders. "There, you're all good."

Gabe turns his face into Pete's hair and breathes in and out quietly. Pete counts the breaths until they slow down and even out and until Gabe's warm and heavy  at his side again, like Pete's used to.

"See," Pete says, moving his hand up and down Gabe's side. "I probably need to whisper sweet nothings in your ear now."

Gabe laughs, a puff of warm breath against Pete's head. "You'll see that coming up with them isn't that easy."

Pete kisses the part of Gabe he can most easily reach without moving, a stiff, gelled strand of hair. "I wrote six albums' worth of sweet nothings."

"Your idea of sweet nothings is why girls kept dumping you."

"So, what, this was all a plot to make me appreciate your efforts?"

"It was a plot to make you smack my dick."

"Well, shit, it worked." Pete grins and pulls Gabe closer. "Next time just ask, okay?"

Gabe nods into Pete's hair. "You liked it too, right? That wasn't too, like..."

Pete takes a deep breath and tries to settle back into the hot knot of uncertainty and desperation when he had Gabe under him. "The role reversal was weird, I guess. But you were still a bossy shit, so it was fine. As long as you tell me what to do, it's fine." 

Gabe laughs quietly. "Lucky I'm a control freak." 

"Yeah," Pete says, squeezing his arms tight. "Pretty lucky."


End file.
